


Don't you know you can't leave someone in the middle of a convention floor all alone?

by Gigglepud



Category: Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Conventions, Fluff, M/M, Meet-Cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-23
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-09-25 08:30:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17117945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gigglepud/pseuds/Gigglepud
Summary: Steve goes to a pop culture convention for the first time. It turns out better than he expects.





	Don't you know you can't leave someone in the middle of a convention floor all alone?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fingersnapstothat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fingersnapstothat/gifts).



> Merry Christmas & Happy Holidays!  
> This is my Captain America Secret Santa gift to [Borkyandstove](https://borkyandstove.tumblr.com/)!  
> I tried my best to fulfil your prompt, I hope you enjoy!! :) 
> 
> Also a million thanks to [TrepidationChance](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrepidationChance) for being a wonderful beta!!  
> Title from Middle of a Memory.

30 seconds. Maximum.

Steve’s sure he had only looked away for 30 seconds, if not less. Yet somehow, that’s enough for Natasha’s bobbing dyed-blond head to disappear into the crowd.

Steve pivots, but there’s no sign of her bright blue and pink pigtails in the clusters of people.

Steve takes a slow deep breath. Then, he makes his way down the aisle, looking around one more time to survey the situation. This pop culture convention is relatively smaller; Nat had reassured him that even before she convinced to cosplay with her friends.

It shouldn’t be impossible to find Nat. He’s sure she is looking out for him, too. So, it shouldn’t be a big deal — he can survive on his own, even if it’s for a few hours…

Except—

Steve’s hands fly to his thighs, patting down the thin fabric of his tights, before reaching up to bury his face into his hands.

At least, he _would_ have been fine if not for the fact that both his phone and wallet are still with Nat.

With no choice, Steve forces his gaze upwards to look around again, hoping that, against all odds, Nat will just magically turn up in front of him. He won’t even be pissed if she surprises him with her silent movements again.

Steve is spinning around helplessly, eyes darting across all corners of the convention building, but Nat’s clearly left this area.

 

He’s at the Artist Alley, but he leaves the area to widen his search. He makes his way around the building, the convention Centre was huge, with too many stalls to block a clear view of the whole room.

Steve doesn’t quite run, but he’s fast enough that others skirt out of the way as he barrels past.

“Go, Superman! Good luck!” Someone calls after him with a whoop.

Even with preoccupied thoughts, he can’t help ducking his head to hide a creeping blush.

Steve rented his costume last minute to meet Nat’s DC superheroes and super-villains theme. And though he’s among large numbers of other cosplayers, Steve still feels exposed in his tight spandex blue and red. The thin layer of clothing does nothing to cover the bulge of his muscles, and with the red cape trailing behind, tugging at his throat. It only makes Steve self-conscious.

Yet, despite all the effort he made to match the squad — well, there he is, alone against the world anyway. A world that must have opened up and swallowed Natasha whole.

When he reaches the lounge area, the space opening up in front of him, he slows down to scan the face of every single person. At least twice. Brows furrowed with a sense of desperation that, please, just let him find Nat already.

Before he can check a third time, just in case, there’s a tap to his shoulder as two younger girls rush up to him.

“Hey! Come join the photo!”

Steve looks past them to see a Batman trailing after them, a small resigned grin the only feature Steve can see on his face. Though he’s covered head to toe in the iconic black mask, suit and cape, it doesn’t distract Steve from the nice frame of his body.

Batman tilts his head up to Steve, and though his eyes are shadowed, Steve can imagine the gleam as he widens his grin. “Yeah, come join.”

As soon as Steve gives a surprised nod, Batman is pushed to stand right beside him, and the two girls stand on either side. Then another slightly older girl comes forward and Steve barely remembers in time to smile as the camera lifts.

Then he’s smiling and waving them goodbye as the three girls wander off.

 

“Hey, Superman!” Steve’s a little surprised that Batman hadn’t left, but instead, lingers with an open smile. “You alright there? You were just a little stressed earlier.”

“Oh yeah, I’m fine, really,” Steve starts, with a quick glance around to see if Nat has appeared since the last time he looked.

He means to elaborate and offer a quick explanation that would satisfy Batman, but they’re interrupted again when a Stormtrooper approaches. An energetic young man’s voice echoes from behind the helmet as he raises his arms in celebratory greeting at the two of them.

“Hey! Can I take a picture with you?”

Their conversation is put on hold again as Steve huddles together with Batman and the storm trooper for a photo. Just before they leave, a Naruto jumps in, calling for them to wait and let her join the photo.

Like a signal turned green, others come and go. Some approaches timidly while others are like long lost friends, coming together to take group photos of all variety of combination of characters. Steve has barely moved two steps from the lounge, and the conversation that had just sort-of begun with Batman has barely lifted off.

Yet, Steve can’t say he hates it, this development. He loses himself to the casual laughter and photos with cosplayers, or even other con-goers who just wants a photo with Superman and Batman. He finally gets the appeal of it all that Nat was trying to tell him.

Though he’s never considered himself photogenic, or great with attention, it’s different at the con. It’s just fun, coming up with different poses and expressions for every photo, and sometimes Batman would urge him to do a matching pose: a “symbol of solidarity between us superheroes,” Batman had said with an enthused grin.

And well, if for one of those photos, when Batman had nudged his shoulder into Steve’s and his heart had skipped a beat, well, it’s only a sign of how much fun he’s having.

At last, the crowd disperses. Steve expects that to be the end of it, but the Batman cosplayer lingers, and when Steve turns to him, he finds Batman’s shadowed eyes directed straight towards him.

“Bucky,” Batman says, extending out a hand.

Steve stares at the hand, then back up towards Batman, brows wrinkled for a moment before it clicks. But it’s still a moment too long, as Batman - _Bucky_ \- tilts his jaw up defensively.

“What?” He demands.

“Sorry, I guess I just didn’t expect that to be the name that goes with all…” Steve trails off, making a vague gesture towards Bucky. Then his brain catches up to his mouth, and his already reddening face blushes harder. “I mean- I don’t. Not that your name-”

Bucky laughs. It’s an open carefree rumble that draws eyes his way, but he doesn’t pay them any mind as he crosses his arms and raises his brows.

“Go on,” He prompts, merciless to Steve’s floundering. Then he gestures for Steve to start walking as they talk, so he probably doesn’t hate Steve yet.

Steve ducks his head. “I don’t know, I guess I just wasn’t expecting that.”

“Well, it would be weird if you were; even Superman doesn’t have the power to so easily uncover my identity. That’s why Batman’s cooler.”

“Oh yeah?” Steve grins, “It’s not like you easily uncovered mine, either.”

“I bet I could have, given enough time,” Bucky stops and takes half a step back, one hand propping on his hip as he glances Steve up and down. “You’re sort of like an open book.”

“Yeah, really?” Steve rolls his eyes and walks ahead. “Like how?”

“Well, you stand out like a first timer, that’s for sure,” There is smugness in Bucky’s voice as he catches up.

Steve frowns. “You’re just guessing.”

“And your reaction confirms it, so I’m still right.”

“So, I don’t really stand out… Do I?” Steve can’t help but ask.

Bucky laughs. “You looked so lost and confused when I first saw you, back when those girls went up to you, it was kind of obvious then that you had no idea what was going on!”

“I did so! I was only—” _Oh_. It really had slipped Steve’s mind. He gasps. “Natasha!”

“What? You’re Natasha? Thought you said your name was Steve,” Bucky teases, his head tilted quizzically to the side.

Steve swat lightly on Bucky’s back, “No! Natasha’s the friend I came with, but I lost her.” He whips his head around desperately, before his shoulder slumped, “I need to find her. I can’t believe I got side-tracked.”

“Wow, great friend you are,” Bucky drawls. “But fair, since it is _my_ company you’re graced with.”

Some other time, in another situation perhaps, Steve would recognise how dead on Bucky’s words really were, but he’s already spent so long apart from Natasha that he’s worried he might not find her until after the con, after all.

“Damn it,” Steve sighs, “I lost her around the Artist’s Alley, but that’s too long ago I’m sure she’s not in that area anymore.”

Bucky hums thoughtfully, but he lets the silence lie for a few seconds longer before he carefully places a hand on Steve’s arm. Immediately, Steve stills.

“Is there a reason you need to find her right now? Is this her first convention as well?”

Steve frowns. “No,” he answers slowly. “We were heading to join her friends the last time we were together. And she has her phone and wallet on her, so she’s probably doing better than I am anyway.”

“Oh, good.” Perhaps it’s the way they’ve turned a corner, and the sunlight angle is just right, but Steve thinks Bucky’s eyes gleam just a little.

“Good?” Steve repeats.

It’s almost amusing, to watch Bucky flounder, even with his expression hidden behind the Batman mask; something that feels weirdly out of place the more he gets to know Bucky.

“Well, it’s good that she’s not lost as well, you know, because she might not be so lucky as to have a handsome prince charming swooping in to save her.”

Steve raises a brow, “Is that what you’re doing?”

Bucky grins, his arm reaching around Steve’s shoulders and pulling him into a side-way hug. Despite that them just meeting, feels natural. They just fit, like the way their earlier photo coordination had been.

“Yeah, I’m helping you look for your friend — once you tell me what she looks like, of course. Two eyes are better than one and all that, right?” Bucky offers. “You shouldn’t have to let your first con experience be ruined, so just stick around with me.”

Steve shoots Bucky an incredulous stare. “Really? I don’t want to stop you from doing whatever you wanted to be doing.”

Bucky shrugs, “I want to, don’t worry about it.” He squeezes Steve’ shoulders, then adds, “Superheroes are all about helping people, remember? That’s why I’m a better Batman than you a superman.”

“Pretty sure that’s not what Batman did as a superhero,” Steve mock grumbles, but he can’t keep the creased brows in place as he shoots Bucky an appreciative grin.

 

The rest of the morning passes quickly, Bucky dragging Steve along to his favourite merchandise and artist stalls, stopping every now and then as Bucky waves down other cosplayers for photos or a short conversation if he knows them. Steve is amazed at just how many people Bucky seems to know, how easily he directs the conversation to bring in and introduce Steve.

“How do you know everyone? You force yourself on them, like me today, too?” Steve grouches good-naturedly.

“Only the good-looking ones,” Bucky counters with an amused chuckle. It irks Steve more that he can’t tell how much of Bucky is joking.

He ducks his head and stares intently at the red of his boots.

Later, Steve and Bucky get caught up in another round of photos in an open area, the whole thing taking longer than Steve predicted, as the photographer directed the positioning of just about everyone into place, and then commanded different poses that everyone should follow along with.

It reminds Steve a little of photo shoots from school, but those had always been tedious and boring. But it’s different when there’s Bucky’s sarcastic remarks at every contrived pose, the way he would strike up jokes and conversations with everyone around them.

When the photographer finally gives the okay sign, Steve is almost sad to have it end.

This time, the group is slower to disperse, as a few cosplayers linger to ask for individual photos with Steve and Bucky. Steve’s heart feels warm all over as he complies.

“Thanks so much! Love your costumes!” Someone is saying, and Steve freezes when he realises, he hadn’t remembered to be freaking out about his costume all morning.

Steve returns the comment in kind, takes a few more photos until only a young couple dressed as Korra and Asami is left. They grin knowingly towards Steve and Bucky in a way that has trepidation and excitement crawling up his spine.

“You guys are so cute together, you know that?” The Asami cosplayer is saying, as Korra flicks back to the photos they took on the camera.

Steve stutters, unable to form coherent words in reply. “Um-”

He’s certain his face matches the colour of his boots and cape even after the moment passes. Thankfully, Korra interrupts with a fist pump to the air. “Yes! The photos look great, thanks so much! See you around!”

Then the two women are walking off and Steve has missed the opportunity to correct them. 

Steve looks nervously towards Bucky to see how he’s reacting, but if he is in any way upset or embarrassed, it doesn’t show through his mask. Bucky turns his head and Steve only flusters more when Bucky notices Steve staring.

“Let’s get out of here, shall we?” Bucky suggests abruptly.

“What?”

Bucky gestures for Steve to follow, making a beeline towards the exit of the building. Steve has no idea where they’re going until they’re out the large glass doors, then further out pass the masses of people to a secluded grass area.

There’s a stone gazebo in the centre, a patch of flowers surrounding the circular benches at the edge of the gazebo. The whole area is separated by grass hedges that circle all the way through, except at the entrance, where a gravel path leads up to the steps of the gazebo.

There’re already a few people at the gazebo, so Bucky steers Steve away from the gazebo, to a shaded grass patch underneath a large oak instead, far enough from any of the other lingering people, but not so much that Steve can’t see and admire the assortment of flowers around the gazebo.

“Just thought a change of scenery might be nice,” Bucky explains. “Just thought we could probably do with some fresh air.”

As if to emphasise his point, he strips the mask off, shaking his head lightly to free his curly browns from its squashed tangled mess. Bucky turns back to face Steve and Steve’s stomach leaps. Now, he can finally match mischievous dancing blues of Bucky’s eyes to a dashing smile, and shit. He’s hot.

Bucky collapses down onto the grass, sitting so his legs are straightened slightly spread in front of him as he leans back on his arms. Oblivious to Steve’s accelerating heart, he continues, “I hope you don’t mind?”

Steve swallows, forcing down the lump in his throat, before dropping down to join Bucky. “No, not at all! This is nice!”

Then Bucky leans back, lying flat on his back. He pats the space beside him, and Steve shuffles awkwardly to lie next to him. Through a scatter of leaves, the sky opens up above them, bright blue and devoid of clouds. It’s a nice day to be out, and Steve breathes deeply to take in the scent of shrubbery around them.

After a while, Bucky nudges Steve in the ribs to restart the conversation, and it’s so easy to just talk for a while. About anything and nothing, like Steve’s favourite movies or that he studies fine arts at college, and then to find out Bucky’s favourite books and that he’s an engineering major and only a year older than him.

It’s just as easy to just let the conversation lull, breathing in deeply nature and relaxing into it.

Steve’s not sure when he fell asleep; doesn’t remember feeling tired at all, but then Bucky’s leaning over him, nudging his shoulder, and oh— his face is so very close.

“Lunch!” Bucky announces.

Steve pushes himself up to see two plates of large burgers in front of him. Steve widens his eyes, then narrows it to glare suspiciously at Bucky.

“Did you just, leave me here?”

Bucky shrugs, “What was going to happen? It’s not like you even have anything to steal. Plus, who could defeat Superman anyway.”

Steve frowns, just as Bucky leans closer and continues, “Don’t worry, though! Since I’m not the idiot without his phone, I was able to take plenty of pictures!”

“What?!” Steve lunges, not even sure where to reach for Bucky’s phone, but Bucky is one step ahead anyway, skipping backwards and out of Steve’s reach.

“Careful!” He squeals, face widening into a panic when Steve’s unbalanced body leans its weight precariously close to the burgers, “Don’t topple the food!”

Steve sighs, leaning his face into his hands to scrub across it, and maybe to hide a smile. It should not be legal how adorable Bucky can be when panicking, especially while still in a Batman costume.

“Fine, fine,” Steve relents.

Bucky plops down to sit across Steve, the plates between them, with a satisfied smile.

“You’re not too upset, are you?” Bucky checks, once he’s grabbed his plate. “As apology, the food’s on me, alright?”

Steve stops midway from lifting the burger to his mouth to widen his grin. “Oh, I’m not really upset. But since you’ve already offered, I’m not saying no to the free food.”

“What a punk,” Bucky grumbles.

It feels natural to immediately retort, “Jerk,” and poke out his tongue.

 

When they’re finally finished with their food, they head back towards the main building of the convention centre. Steve was a little disappointed when Bucky had to put the mask back on, and for that, he would have been willing to lounge for a while longer. But Steve is essentially broke just from the convention tickets alone, so he really should make the most out of the day.

Oh. And on the topic of money, he really should find Natasha.

So, Steve and Bucky make their way back into the main building, not without a few more photo opportunities with other cosplayers, and detours to specific stalls that Bucky wants to visit.

They’re walking around aimlessly when Bucky speaks up suddenly.

“Is your Harley Quinn friend Natasha?”

Steve’s head shoots up from the gamers he’d been watching. “Yes! How did you know?”

Bucky jerks his head to one side, and Steve’s gaze follows the motion to find Natasha storming down the aisle. Eyes blazing and with a smile that promises pain for later, she makes her way right into Steve’s personal space.

“Hello, there,” she says sweetly, “Having fun, I hope?”

Steve blinks, “Hey Nat, sorry I lost you earlier.”

“Yeah, and then proceed to disappear all morning.” She turns to glare at Bucky, “Funny how the only Superman anyone ever came across, when I asked around, was the one that came with Batman. Yet there I was thinking there wasn’t a Batman in the group.”

“Hey! Are you suggesting I don’t know how to make friends?”

“Maybe. But I’m really more suggesting you don’t find boyfriends in the span of one morning.” She narrows her eyes, “Or am I wrong?”

The harder Steve’s brain works to come up with a suitable reply, the only thing he achieves is making his face redder.

“It’s not like that,” Bucky explains quickly for the both of them. But then he turns to Steve and winks. “Yet.”

Now both his heart and brain have stopped working.

“I don’t see what I did that’s worth a glare, you’re the one that lost him. I’m the one who’s been helping his broke ass and cleaning your messes.” Bucky continues with a casual shrug.

“Hey!” Steve thinks to protest. “I’m not a mess!”

Bucky grins, “Stevie, you’re a blushing red tomato in red and blue tights without even money, of course you are.”

“Hey, that’s not fair!” Steve squawks, then turn to Nat, “Right, do you still have my wallet? And phone?”

“Bucky’s still right, though.” Natasha’s smirk matches Bucky’s as she returns Steve’s things. “Well, alright. You guys have fun here, Clint and Tony are waiting for me at the food court.”

She’s slipping through the crowds again, catching Steve by surprise.

“Wait- What?!” Steve stares dumbfoundedly at the direction she disappeared towards. He turns to Bucky with widened eyes, “Did she just ditch me again?”

“To be fair, I don’t think she meant to ditch you the first time when you consider how worried she’d looked. Must be because she figures you’re in good company this time.” Bucky nudges Steve playfully with his elbow. “Though, if you want, I can show you the way to the food court?”

Steve looks towards Bucky. There’s a nonchalance to his voice that sounds almost too casual; too forced. Then Steve smiles.

“No, that’s too much trouble,” he says slowly. “Not sure if that’s worth the effort.”

The grin he gets in return is worth everything.

 

In the end, it happens like this:

Steve and Bucky stop for a photo with Jack Sparrow, Bucky going on a tangent about his love for the film when they’re done.

As a passing comment, Jack Sparrow adds, “I’m glad you found your boyfriend, though.”

Steve stiffens at his side. Bucky waves a hand, “Oh, he’s actually not the person I was looking for earlier.”

“Oh really?” Jack laughs. “My bad. I just assumed, since you two seem so close together, I thought he must have been who you’d been asking for.”

“We only just met together, actually,” Bucky grins towards Steve. Steve forces himself to return the smile, though he’s not feeling it at all. “But he’s great! Even best friends must begin as strangers once, right?”

“Good to know,” Jack Sparrow grins. Then, after a handshake with Bucky, he goes his own way again.

Steve creases his forehead as he turns towards Bucky. “I’m not keeping you away from your boyfriend, am I?”

“Oh no! I don’t have a boyfriend,” Bucky laughs, and Steve surges with relief.  “I was just checking where my sister was setting up-” Bucky stops abruptly, eyes widening. “ _Shit_ , Becca!”

“What’s wrong?”

Bucky starts patting down the pockets of his suit. “I was supposed to meet up with her an hour ago, I forgot,” he muttered absently, eyes glued to the phone he pulls out, and Steve’s not sure if he’s answering Steve or just talking to himself at all. “I need to go!”

“Who…?” Steve starts to ask, but Bucky isn’t really listening. He distractedly looks around, reorienting himself to some unknown destination. “Wait- Bucky, where do you need to go?”

Bucky waves towards a vague direction behind Steve. “I’ll catch you later, alright? Bye!”

“Wait, Bucky! Do you want me to come with?” Steve tries to call after him, but Bucky’s still distractedly typing on his phone as he plunges past crowds. Steve stares after him, jaws slack and brows raised in disbelief and frustration.

Bucky had promised to catch him up later, but then he’d run off so suddenly and quickly, the goodbye somehow felt so final. Was this it? The next time they meet, will Bucky be walking with someone else at the next con? Will Steve be just a passing familiar face they trade brief greetings with?

Mostly, Steve is just sick of being left behind.

 

Steve finds his way back to Natasha, whom, _surprise surprise_ , was no longer at the food court. But thankfully, a quick text leads Steve outside the toilets, where a group of D.C. superheroes are fussing beside the drinking tap.

Natasha stands with her back leaning against the wall, arms crossed and rolling her eyes. Beside her, a Green Lantern, with an impressive glowing insignia on his chest, laughs gleefully as he snaps photos of the man by the tap. The man by the tap — a Green Arrow cosplayer, though his bow and mask are purple — has one hand slapped to his forehead with an exasperated expression, while the other hand wets a stack of serviettes.

When he turns around from the tap, Steve sees the cause of the commotion. There’s a huge smear of some red and yellow sauce on the front of his costume, and the remnants of pepperoni and cheese clinging to the outfit.

“And I spent weeks making this costume!” Green Arrow is complaining to Aquaman; a buff, long-haired blond with a golden trident and a sympathetic frown.

Natasha waves when she sees Steve, her smirk growing when she sees what he’s looking at.

“Don’t worry about Clint,” She pushes herself off the wall to meet Steve. “This happens all the time.”

“Okay,” Steve answers uncertainly.

Natasha proceeds to introduce Steve to her friends, the Green Lantern is Tony, Aquaman is Thor, and there’re a few others whom Steve don’t remember. But he’s pretty sure they don’t remember him either, considering how preoccupied they were at laughing at Clint.

“So, I’m surprised you’re joining us so quickly,” Natasha says with a raised brow. “Where’s Bucky?”

Steve frowns, and any good mood from rejoining Nat and meeting her friends disappear. “Oh, he left. He went to find someone called Becca? I’m not really sure.”

Natasha narrows her eyes, “And he just left you there?”

“Yeah,” Steve frowns, “But I guess that’s understandable. He was only staying with me because I didn’t have my wallet and phone earlier, and he didn’t want to leave me alone, that’s all.”

Nat hums noncommittally, clearly dissatisfied with something, but doesn’t comment it any further. “Come on, then, you stay with us.”

As a group, Nat and her friends make their way across the floor much slower than Steve and Bucky’s pace. Which is fine, especially with more photo stops as people are interested in taking group photos with the whole squad. But no matter how hard Steve stares at all the merchandise, or tries to pay attention to the others’ conversation, his mind can’t help but wander back to Bucky. Then his gaze would be drifting off again, glancing across the room for any sign of the tall black pointed tip of Batman’s helmet.

Perhaps, that’s why it takes a while for him to notice the increasing abrupt pauses in Natasha’s conversation as they walk, and even longer to find its cause. They’re midway through a half-hearted conversation about the upcoming Star Wars movie when Natasha stops completely, ignoring when Peter, clad in the all-red of the Flash, bumps right into her back.

“What’s wrong?” Steve blinks at the phone Natasha whips out, completely innocuous and unwarranted of Natasha’s glare.

“Stupid idiots,” Nat mutters, not quite answering Steve'. She moves to put the phone back but aborts the motion halfway as she turns curiously to Steve. Steve barely resists the impulse to take a step back in defence. “So, Bucky was just being nice to you, this morning? Didn’t mean anything by it, right?”

Steve’s heart sinks, “Why are we talking about this again?”

Natasha shrugs, “Just two friends, catching up after a long time apart, right? I mean, if you gave up so easily clearly you feel the same?”

Steve frowns, “What are you trying to say? What are you trying to make _me_ say?”

Nat shrugs again, though there’s a vicious smile on her face. “Nothing, just never thought I’d find something so amusing when I decided to drag you with me today.”

Then she unlocks her phone again, bringing up a chat screen before she shoves it in his face.

“Wait… who’s James?” Steve stares at the messages, the words do not come together to make coherent meaning. “Is he talking about me?”

Natasha rolls her eyes, “Are you serious? Don’t tell me you only know him by that ridiculous nickname.”

“Bucky?!”

When Steve allows himself to consider that possibility, he can feel his heart speeding as he rereads the messages with this new perspective again. He can almost hear the whine in Bucky’s voice in the dragged-out vowels in his texts and the excessive use of exclamations as he begs Natasha to give him Steve’s number.

“Have you been ignoring him all this time!?” Steve demands. “And you didn’t even tell me?”

Natasha crosses her arms, “I refuse to be the messenger of two incompetent idiots who don’t know how to communicate properly.”

Steve facepalms. “If you’d told me in the first place, we wouldn’t have this communication problem anymore! So can you give me his number?”

“No,” Natasha responds at once, her tone firm and closed for discussion. Instead, she speeds up her pace, so Steve has to jog to follow as she redirects her walk with purpose.

“What? Why?!” Steve demands.

Natasha rolls her eyes, “Ask him yourself.”

Then, Natasha directs Steve’s attention to their surroundings; they’re at the Artists’ Alley again. She points towards a booth, and there, Steve’s heart soars at the sight of the familiar Batman’s costume standing behind an array of posters and pins.

“His sister’s booth,” Natasha supplies behind him, even as he makes a probably-embarrassing mad dash towards it.

Bucky has his mask off, a phone gripped tight in his hand drawing his attention. Yet, when he looks up, the series of expressions - of surprise, hope and relief - is full and revealing on his wide grin and beaming eyes.

“Steve!” Bucky waves.

Steve grins. “You’re an idiot,” he says in lieu of a greeting.

When Bucky laughs, it lifts all the weight off Steve’s shoulders.


End file.
